


In Which Micah Loses His Clothes (Kind Of)

by waitforhightide



Series: The Real Unholy Trinity [3]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Couch Sex, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, The Real Unholy Trinity, apocalypse boyfriends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-06
Updated: 2018-10-06
Packaged: 2019-07-27 03:18:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16210295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waitforhightide/pseuds/waitforhightide
Summary: Imagine Lucian wearing nothing but a shirt or jacket of Micah’s, which is baggy or oversized on them. Micah comes home to see Lucian curled up on the couch asleep like this, and finds it absolutely adorable.Like that, but with more porn.





	In Which Micah Loses His Clothes (Kind Of)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CactusFlowers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CactusFlowers/gifts).



> This was a Christmas drabble gift for Cactus in like, 2016? 
> 
> This is part of The Real Unholy Trinity universe that I've been writing on and off with [CactusFlowers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CactusFlowers/pseuds/CactusFlowers) and [crypticbarmpot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/crypticbarmpot/pseuds/crypticbarmpot) for like 6 years. This piece is all mine, but Lucian belongs to Cactus and Julian belongs to Cryptic.

Micah slipped through the old screen door, trying not to make too much noise as he leaned on the thin bannister and kicked off his shoes. As far as he knew, Jules was still awake upstairs, binging on all the internet intel he could hack, but the rest of the lights in the duplex were off, which meant Luc was probably asleep. Micah’s backpack was heavy with cans and boxes, pilfered carefully from gas station shelves and VEAP boxes in various church lobbies. He was pretty sure some of what Jules like to call  _ Unholy hocus-pocus _ was rubbing off on him--this was his third food run in two weeks, and he had yet to get himself caught. Still, he’d have to bitch at the other two for their weed-fueled snack extravaganzas.

He slipped through the living room as quietly as possibly, dodging empty chip bags and soda cans, and put his backpack on the table. Nothing needed to be refrigerated, which was good, because he was pretty sure even Lucian’s magic fingers hadn’t been able to make the ancient Frigidaire in the kitchen work. Rolling his eyes, Micah nabbed  a Mountain Dew from the open twelve-pack on the counter and went to cut through the living room to the stairs when he noticed Luc spread-eagle and snoring on the couch. His sweats were pulled down low on his thin hips, and Micah’s eyes followed the streak of bare skin helplessly up to his chest. He was about to trace the muscles of his friend’s bare shoulders--a sight path that he would never admit was even half as familiar as it actually was--when he realized Luc’s shoulders  _ weren’t _ bare--they were definitely covered by Micah’s own favorite purple hoodie. He had been looking for it before he left, and even asked Jules and Lucian if they had seen it, but both of them had denied knowing where it was. Either Luc had lied, or he had found it after Micah left.

It was much too big on the devil’s body. Luc had pulled the thin hood over his head, and the tip of his nose barely poked out in the dark. Micah could see the cloth fluttering as each quiet snuffle-snort of breath left Luc’s open mouth. He looked younger somehow--or maybe just less burdened by the presence of a metaphysical entity that sporadically took control of his body. As far as Micah knew, Lucifer wasn’t really there when Lucian was  _ actually _ asleep. Where he went, no one knew, but his absence made the lines in Luc’s face even out in a way that made him look almost childlike. Micah wished he had a camera, or was the kind of person who could draw realism, so he could capture the moment somewhere other than his own unreliable memory.

One of Luc’s arms was tossed carelessly over the edge of the couch, and the sleeve fell easily two inches past his fingers. The other was hovering suspiciously close to the waistband of his sweats. Micah had a sudden, vivid mental image of Luc’s hand clenched around his own cock, the purple sweatshirt open over his heaving chest, and Micah felt heat flooding his skin. On sudden impulse, he went around to the other side of the couch and sat on the beat-up ottoman at the corner. He must have sat there looking at Luc’s face as well as he could in the dark for ten minutes before he thought,  _ Fuck it, why not?  _ and leaned forward to kiss Luc’s parted lips.

A small noise hummed in the sleeping boy’s throat, and he kissed Micah back in his sleep. Encouraged, Micah braced himself on the couch and found space to swing his left leg over Luc, effectively straddling him. He pressed his knees in against Luc’s hips and grinned as Luc moaned in his sleep again. Micah nipped lightly at each of Luc’s collarbones, and was about to move to the side of his neck when he felt Luc’s hand grasp his wrist. For a moment he was afraid, and when he looked up to meet Luc’s eyes, he expected to see the cold hardness that was Lucifer in them,  but it was only Luc’s gaze there, eyes half-closed.

“You’re wearing my sweatshirt,” Micah said, voice low to keep Jules from hearing. Luc only hummed again in answer. “You know I was looking for that before I left. You had it the whole time, didn’t you?” Luc’s lips spread into a lazy smile.

“Maybe,” he slurred sleepily.

Micah raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“”Cause I knew it’d piss you off,” Luc mumbled, eyes shut again.

“I call bullshit,” Micah whispered, lowering himself until he was almost sitting on Luc’s hips. Luc squirmed a little, and Micah grinned again. “Why’d you take it?”

“Missed you,” Luc replied. “Smells like you. Made everything better.”

“Uh-huh. You mean ‘everything’ like jacking off thinking about me?”

“Plead the fifth,” Luc said, but he was smiling again.

“Uh-huh,” Micah repeated. He could feel Luc getting hard, even through his own jeans, and his cock stirred in answer. “What if we make it smell like sex instead? Would that make you decide to give it back?”

“D’make it better,” Luc slurred, and bucked his hips up. Micah inhaled sharply before pressing back against him. They built up a rhythm quickly, and soon both of them were breathing heavily. Micah’s hands found their way to Luc’s shoulders instead of resting at odd angles on the edges of the couch, and Luc’s hands were knotted into the back of his shirt. They kissed sporadically, between Micah resting his forehead on Luc’s. Eventually Micah felt one of Luc’s hands leave his back and move to fumble clumsily at the button on his jeans. He paused his movements long enough to let Luc get him unzipped, and then lifted himself up so Luc could slide his sweats down. As expected, he was naked underneath. Micah slid his own pants and boxers off, almost falling over in a decidedly unattractive manner when one leg got tangled, but Luc didn’t seem to mind. 

Micah took back his spot and kissed Luc again, his movements more frenzied now. Luc kissed him back, pulling his head down until they were both exhaling hot air into the hood of the sweatshirt. 

“Luc, is there--” Micah started.

“Lube. On the coffee table,” Luc agreed. It was an odd perk to living in a house with two guys you were sleeping with--there was almost always lube within an arm’s reach of the most frequented sex spots. Micah fumbled for it in the dark and finally found it. He sat up, pulling away from Luc’s mouth reluctantly. He got the cap open and poured some into his hand, distracted for a second by how cold it was in contrast to Luc’s skin underneath him. He looked up at Luc again, suddenly nervous.

“Do you...?”

“What?” Luc asked.

“No, I mean, can I...?”

Luc sat propped himself up on his elbows for a second, the hood finally falling back from his face. “You want to fuck me,” he said. It wasn’t a question. Micah nodded, and Luc smirked. “That’s the spirit, Mickey,” he said, and Micah ignored the nickname in favor of lubing himself up.

When he pressed himself up against Luc again, he stopped. “Is this--I mean, do you--”

“Slept with Jules earlier,” Luc said rather breathlessly. “Should be okay. Don’t worry so much, Mic.”

And so Micah pressed forward, and suddenly he was moaning, and Luc was grunting pleasantly, and Luc’s legs wrapped around Micah in a vice grip. Micah lost his sense of linear time, his hands gripping Luc’s shoulders and his eyes shut tightly as if everything would vanish when he opened them. Luc angled his hips and Luc could feel the press of Luc’s cock on his stomach, and he wrapped a hand around it eagerly. They found their rhythm easily, as always, and Micah had time to think,  _ He’s beautiful, this is so beautiful, this is exactly where I am supposed to be, _ before Luc’s voice rose in a half-strangled chorus of “Yes, yes,  _ yes! _ ”

Micah felt Luc’s cum splash between them, covering his fingers and both of their stomachs, at the same time that Luc tightened around him. “Oh, Christ, oh  _ fuck, _ ” he groaned, pulling out of Luc, and then he was cumming too,  adding his share to the mess between them. He collapsed forward resting his head on Luc’s chest and deciding he didn’t give a fuck if he got jizz all over his shirt. It wouldn’t be the first one.

They lay in silence for a bit before Luc spoke again. “I think you got jizz on your sweatshirt, man,” he said with a laugh.

“Makes it better,” Micah echoed.

“Yeah,” Luc agreed.

“Stay with you here tonight?” Micah asked, feeling himself slipping into a post-orgasm sleep.

“‘Course,” Luc agreed. Micah nodded against Luc’s chest as Luc wrapped his arms around his back, and Micah managed to reach to the foot of the couch and pull the wrinkled quilt up over them. They drifted asleep with their legs entangled and their breathing in synch.

  
  


When they woke up in the morning, they saw one of Jules’ infamous Post-It notes on the coffee table by the still-open bottle of lube.

_ Told you the sweatshirt would work. He’s a sucker for adorableness.  _

_ PS - ask me to join next time, douchebags. _

_ xx J _

**Author's Note:**

> My writing blog is [whereitglows.tumblr.com](http://whereitglows.tumblr.com)
> 
> Find me on twitter [@crashmargulies_](http://twitter.com/crashmargulies_) or instagram [@crashmargulies](http://instagram.com/crashmargulies) if you want?


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